My mother is pleasant when she is not stressed, and she can be sympathetic (as long as no action is required of her). But her lack of empathy, her absorption with her fears and anxiety, and her demands that we solve her most trivial problems – while she does little to nothing for us – were confusing and painful when we were young and draining now that we are adults.
Her children have come to realize that she just isn’t able to think of what’s best for others or what is too much to ask. She becomes anxious and irritable when she realizes that other people expect something of her or are annoyed by her demands. Other people are supposed to understand that her needs are always urgent.
I know what I am writing is harsh. I know she means no harm; she is just trying to feel safe. I know she cares about her children, but she didn’t know how to put her heart into nurturing us. Instead of empathizing with us, she has always used her energy and emotional stores to calm herself against the world. She had so little to give that we have always clung like boat-wreck survivors for just one sign that she would reach out and pull us to safety and warmth.